


Get A Grip

by GammaDraconis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Eaters, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Malfoy Manor, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Reader-Insert, Sweet, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-07-27 21:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaDraconis/pseuds/GammaDraconis
Summary: He waved over to Y/L/N and had her shift away, going up to the child himself. Of course.. he wasn’t exactly one to console others, so he leaned down and patted him on his back until he finally became calmer. As soon as the coast was clear, he helped the boy up and led him out the cellar. He took him through the back door into the gardens, reaching the edge of the fence. He told him the directions to the nearest safe town and reassured him of his fate. He was just about to push him through when he felt a hand firmly grab hold of the back of his shirt.“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” A rough, raspy voice called out, another hand gripping at his hair. Dolohov.. Draco’s back arched at this and his eyes began to water in pain.orDraco gets caught betraying the Dark Lord during the Second Wizarding War and Y/N helps him feel better.





	1. Chapter 1

Malfoy Manor was full of rooms and spaces even a long term inhabitant would never have to visit. There were quite a few luxurious bedrooms (all with king sized mattresses covered with egyptian cotton), bathrooms (slightly more modern, and.. swanky, additions) and all sorts of other lounge areas. Most of these rooms were barely used at all. Draco didn’t even think he’d managed to see all of the rooms yet. But, perhaps living in a house for generations relieves any curiosity you might have about it. 

However, there was one space he’d always been interested in where he’d been absolutely forbidden to enter : the cellar.

For him, it seemed to be like a basement full of wonders he had no idea about. There must have been some reason why he’d never been permitted to look inside it, right? Some peculiar, life-changing reason. But, he was wrong.

The cellars of the Manor had been used over the past few centuries as places for the Malfoys to keep _prisoners_. Actual living beings. There were real reasons other than the possibility of a fun creature living behind the door that it had bars over the windows. He’d considered the possibility, sure, but he didn’t realise its severity until he saw the other Death Eaters bringing in people. People they didn’t want to keep in Azkaban for some reason, but people they wanted to starve and torture right here.

It had been traumatic enough, really, having so many Death Eaters living in his house as the Dark Lord’s influence slowly grew stronger. Watching Professor Burbage’s death had only been the beginning of what was to come. Every day he stayed at his home, he’d be ordered to torture people the Dark Lord suspected or was simply disappointed. Performing the Cruciatus curse hadn’t seemed all that bad in theory, but watching a grown man who could normally hold his own contort and scream in pain that you were causing to them was another level of horrifying. 

Draco had hoped to have escape it at Hogwarts, but, alas, the coming of the Carrows had been absolutely as awful as he’d anticipated. He had thought torturing grown adults was agony, but they’d seemed to make torturing students some kind of competition. Defense Against The Dark Arts classes were total nightmares and while practice with Aunt Bella had made him somewhat adept with the Unforgivable Curses, he could barely hold himself up when he heard the students around him screaming. 

After he’d seen Amycus torture a muggle-born first year, it was as if the sight would haunt him forever. He’d thought his task for sixth year was difficult, but this year had turned out to be much harder than he’d ever imagined. 

Not to mention, the guilt that started seeping into him over the course of the year. He’d begun to realise that his hatred towards the muggles and the muggle-borns around him had been.. _biased_. Perhaps even slightly bigoted. He knew he had no right to complain about what was going on in the castle, it was sort of his fault to begin with, and that just drove him further down that hole. 

He’d begun to stay up most nights, trying his best to stay away from the dreams that had become a part of his life. Of watching those he loved hurt by the Dark Lord, seeing innocent children hurt.. simply for their blood status. Why had he supported and upheld such beliefs for so long? Now.. it was too late to change anything, it seemed.

But when he came back for his Winter holidays, life at the Manor was worse as ever.

It was even more bleak than it had been the year before. Not only was there a lack of grandeur or joy around the place, but he was also forced to continue to serve the Dark Lord. And, of course, not only that but the Death Eaters had begun to use their cellars to trap.. civilians. Not people they’d suspected of being in the Order of the Phoenix, not people who’d been actively badmouthing You-Know-Who, but just.. problem citizens. He’d known that they’d even plucked out Loony Lovegood from the Hogwarts Express during the holidays and kept her there because her father was being difficult about the stories published in The Quibbler. 

But he was surprised to see even more people gathered around in the cellars the one time his aunt let him take gruel to the prisoners. There were so many old people (whom he assumed had provided safe houses for escaping Mudbloods) and even younger couples (who he suspected were cross-breeding, in the Death Eater’s eyes). There were even a few families in sight, young children gathered around in circles playing some sort of game. He seemed to recognise a small, ferrety looking man with his wife and children to be someone he’d seen in the Magical Maintenance department, but he couldn’t exactly be sure.. 

But what surprised him the most, and the least, at the same time, was that there were actual Hogwarts students down there, or.. ex-students, rather. There was no one he recognised to be in Dumbledore’s Army in the years prior, but people he assumed had been standing out of line. Or perhaps just people the Carrows or Snape had lost their patience for. He’d heard of a few incidents at school and had realised that the Death Eaters had forced the perpetrators out of Hogwarts, but he didn’t realise that they would truly kidnap them the way they had. 

He couldn’t really understand what good it did to keep the innocents there the way they had. It didn’t make much sense at all. What good would it do to trap these people here and hurt them to pass the time? It’s not like they were doing anything but trying to save others, or attempting to escape from the Dark Lord’s wrath. It made him feel all the more guilty and powerless.

That was until, he decided he could take the slightest bit of action. He’d been sent to give them gruel again but felt guilt swirling in his stomach as he heard a child crying, asking when they could finally get home. He watched the child’s mother console him and was suddenly reminded of his family’s own current plight. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d pulled the child’s parents to the side and told them he’d help them get out. And soon enough, at an opportune moment when he felt no one was being too wary over the prisoners, he showed them the way out of the cellar and told them the way to the nearest town, the safest one he could think of. 

There wasn’t exactly anyone keeping track of who or what went in and out of the cellar to begin with. It was just the goblin, Ollivander and the Lovegood girl his people seemed to remember, everyone else they’d pick and choose out of to torture when they were getting bored. So, he felt his actions were simply for the greater good. The Dark Lord wouldn’t need to worry about taking care of these folk then, would he? Or at least, that’s what he said he’d say if he was actually found out.

He tried and did this every few days over the holidays, sneaking out the people who seemed the most vulnerable at that point. All the prisoners noticed him taking the risk he was and acknowledged it, even acted politely towards him whenever he came into the dungeons. (Which he suspected was also a bit more to get into his good books.)

Soon enough, he returned to Hogwarts for another unpleasant term. Everything only seemed to be getting worse. Practically all the students who’d been suspected to be a part of ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ had gone into hiding. He’d noticed the clear Longbottom shaped hole in the classes they’d had together. He often wondered to himself whether there was any chance he’d been forced back to Malfoy Manor like so many others. He shuddered thinking about it, even though he’d never had so much as a positive thought towards the bloke up till that point.

His classes were clearly emptier. Many children didn’t return after the holidays, afraid of ending up like so many others who’d been tortured endlessly. Again, he wondered if this was a rumor the Carrows had spread after whisking off some of them to the Manor. 

Before he knew it, it was time for Easter break. He returned to his ‘home’ quite reluctantly, afraid of what else was in store after each visit seemed to gradually get worser. He visited the cellar and it was as full as ever. There were clearly a lot more students there, most of them younger than him, looking frail and poorly.

He noticed only another student from the same year as him.. Y/N Y/L/N. Their paths had never really crossed much. They’d always had classes together here and there, but they’d only exchanged a couple of words. He didn’t know exactly what to say to her. He never remembered her being a part of the D.A. or anything like that. She wasn’t really close with Potter or his fellows either. He’d noted she’d stopped coming into class, but had assumed it was because her parents feared for her or something. He wasn’t exactly why she was here in the first place, but it’s not like he had time to stop and chat.

Even though he would have liked to help her out of the place, there always seemed to be somebody else who took precedence, be it an elderly couple who looked like they were about to take their last breaths, or a second year Hufflepuff who looked absolutely distraught. 

A few days before he had to board the Express back to the castle, he decided to help out another student. After handing out another daily helping of gruel, he noticed a Gryffindor student who couldn’t have been much older than thirteen lying, curled up in a corner of the room, crying. He noticed Y/N beside him, trying her best to brighten his spirits, but he lay as he was, sobbing out. 

He waved over to Y/L/N and had her shift away, going up to the child himself. Of course.. he wasn’t exactly one to console others, so he leaned down and patted him on his back until he finally became calmer. As soon as the coast was clear, he helped the boy up and led him out the cellar. He took him through the back door into the gardens, reaching the edge of the fence. He told him the directions to the nearest safe town and reassured him of his fate. He was just about to push him through when he felt a hand firmly grab hold of the back of his shirt. 

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” A rough, raspy voice called out, another hand gripping at his hair. _Dolohov_.. Draco’s back arched at this and his eyes began to water in pain. 

“N-nothing… nothing at all.” He’d been caught red handed and he knew it. There was no way out of this. 

“The Dark Lord will be so proud of one of his fools letting out our prisoners.” He recognised Yaxley’s voice.

“You-you can’t do anything to me! This is my house!” Draco managed out.

“Let’s see what your aunt has to say about that.” The hand pulled him further back and his glassy eyes locked with the men’s cold, unforgiving ones. 

Before he knew it, they’d dragged him all the way back to the lounge, and were just about to begin roughing him up when finally, Bellatrix arrived. 

“What are you doing to him?” She called out, strutting over to the scene. It wasn’t long before his own parents arrived, and soon the rest of the Lord’s army.

“He’s been betraying us! As good as a blood traitor he is.” Yaxley responded, balling his hands into fists as he glared down at the boy.  
“It wasn’t-” 

“He was.. betraying the Dark Lord?” Bellatrix interrupted Draco, not even meeting his gaze. He looked over at his parents, but they just looked shocked at the scene playing out in front of them.

Dolohov kicked Draco in the side and he whimpered in pain, reaching down to clutch at where he was sure a bruise would begin to form.

“He was helping prisoners out of the cellar!”  
Bellatrix’s eyes widened and she quickly grabbed ahold of him. “How could you? You insolent brat! You’ve let down the Lord already!”   
Draco’s lower lip began to wobble as he began contemplating what lay ahead of him. He really shouldn’t have risked it to save all those people..

She slapped him across the face, her long, sharp nails like claws against his skin. He fell to the ground, already growing weak. 

“Take his wand and throw him in the cellar with the others. His fate will be decided on later.”

One of the men carried him off to the cellar entrance and flung him inside, grabbing his wand from his pocket. “It’s what you deserve! To live like them!” Draco fell to the ground with a thud as the door slammed. Draco began to come up with a retort. “You’ll-You’ll all pay-” He felt a striking pain in his shoulder as he landed on it, then slowly sat up again, gulping and gripping it to somehow relieve himself of the tension he was feeling

But there was absolutely no way to. 

He’d managed to screw up his family’s reputation worse than it was already with the Dark Lord and his followers. And this was.. like salt in their wounds. He’d been a bit taken aback over the fact that his parents hadn’t even tried to defend him up there. They’d always seemed to be there to take care of him but perhaps.. this time had really gone too far. He was simply the author of his own misfortune.

He suddenly realised that all of the prisoners were watching him. He looked up, silvery eyes flitting from side to side, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. “I.. I managed to help him out. He-he’ll make it. The Death Eaters didn’t get to him.” He reassured everyone, but some continued to look over at him. What was he supposed to say to them? Any hope they might have had was certainly diminished with him being tossed in here the way he had been. He just sighed and shifted off towards a corner, hugging his knees and setting his pointed chin on them.

He could feel fear filling him up to the brim. There was no end to the terrible implications him getting caught would have. Merlin could only hope they didn’t find out about all the others he’d helped out as well. He shut his eyes tightly and shuddered, soon beginning to feel tears well up in his eyes. He let them drip down his face, bringing his palms onto his cheeks to hide them from anyone who might be watching. 

Suddenly, he heard the soft patter of steps near him. He swiped away the tears on his face and looked up. It was.. Y/L/N. What could she possibly have to say to him? He’d let her down by not helping her out of the place, goddammit, he’d let her down by bringing the Death Eaters into the castle the year before. He’d let everyone down! He sniffled slightly and forced himself to look up at her. Her face was.. clearly a bit sorrowful. 

She was sporting a pink jumper and some blue jeans, all of which had since grown a bit dishevelled and had torn at places, leaving patches she couldn’t mend without her wand. Her face looked a bit more gaunt as well. She’d certainly not been able to eat well, what with, only the daily serving of a bowl of gruel to all of them. She must not have seen the sun in a while either, and of course, she must have been as stressed as any of the others, awaiting extreme pain at all times. 

“Draco?” She asked, softly, and he realised he’d been staring straight at her for a second. “You-you were really brave. To help all the others the way you did, I mean.” She bit down on her lip and put her hands into her pockets, fiddling along. She was clearly a bit nervous in front of him, and he couldn’t exactly blame her. 

He felt his ears heat up at her comment. Why was she being so kind to him? He’d done absolutely nothing for her thus far. Was she expecting him to make it out of this all healthy and help prisoners out of the place again? “Really. We’ll never forget what you did for the rest of them. And they’ll definitely never forget your sacrifice.” He took a deep breath before responding himself. A shaky “Thank you.” was all he could manage out.

She nodded at him slowly, then looked down at him curiously. She had to know he was likely awaiting for one of the Death Eaters to come down and call him up to be executed. “Are you alright?” She asked him, pressing her lips together. He just nodded and looked up at her, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. She gave him a weak smile and slowly turned to leave, deciding to give the boy his space. 

Before he knew it, he felt tears trickling down his face again, wetting his trouser covered knees. He sniffled a bit loudly for his taste, bringing his hands up to hide his slowly reddening face. He was going to die. To die! How could he just accept it? His death would not only mean sorrow for his family, but likely despair for all the prisoners around him. All of whom were innocents who’d been caught trying to do something for the greater good. In that moment, he felt more fearful towards death than for anything else. 

He heard the same patter of steps and felt a warm body crouch down in front of him. 

“I-It’s clear you aren’t alright..” The same voice called out, so soft it was barely even a whisper. 

“I’m just fine.” He managed out again, trying his absolute best to compartmentalise his thoughts. He’d been successful with it for Occlumency! Why couldn’t he do it when awaiting impending doom?

He heard her shift and sit down beside him, leaning up against the wall herself. She stared at his shaking figure for a few seconds before beginning to speak herself. “D’you.. want a hug?”

He was more alarmed at what she said than how she sat beside him. He looked up at her, tears still threatening to continue to spill. “What?” He croaked out. She couldn’t possibly have said_ that_ to him! He’s a _Death Eater_, for god’s sake. Regardless of what he’s done since. 

“Would you like a hug?” She eyed him nervously, then looked down at her lap. “They’re scientifically proven to make you feel better.” Draco gulped down the lumps forming in his throat, slowly mustering up the courage to meet her own gaze. Her expression was surprisingly tender, almost pitiful towards him. He squinted at her before nodding politely. “O-only if you want to… you don’t have to.” He sniffled again, bringing his hands up to rub his wet eyes with his knuckles. 

“I do want to. Don’t worry..” She reached over and set a hand on his shoulder, patting it gently. “I’d like it if you felt better.. and exchanging the slightest of body heat isn’t the worst sacrifice to give.” She smiled again and Draco managed a curt one himself. She shifted closer towards him and swallowed audibly herself. She gently placed her palms on his upper arms, and he slowly set his own round her waist. She brought her arms further upwards, around his neck.  
  
He almost had to stop himself from continuing to shiver at first, but felt himself grow warmer at her touch. She shifted further towards him, bringing him into a tighter embrace, their chests pressed up together as she set her chin over his shoulder. He couldn’t even bring himself to remember the last time someone had hugged him, or the last time he’d felt his intimate with someone.

He could feel all the nerves that had had him all buzzed beginning to relax as she gently rubbed her hands on his back. She brought a hand onto the back of his neck and let her fingers toy gently with the ends of his hair. He could feel the original rigidity of his body give away, practically like putty in her warm, gentle arms. “Thank you.” He managed out again, although that same nervous lurch in his stomach hadn’t wavered. 

He held onto her a little tighter, and thankfully, she didn’t seem to want to detach herself from him either. He clung to her as if for dear life, and felt the corners of his lips quirking up slightly as she brought her face into the crook of his neck. He gently set his head atop hers and took a deep, deep breath. He’d want to try and recreate the overwhelming sense of comfort this brought to him somehow later on. Y/N certainly wouldn’t want to do this kind of thing again after they were out of crisis. 

He could feel his eyelids begin to droop, growing heavier and heavier with each breath. Had she cast a spell on him? On a normal day, the fear of certain death would give him anxiety to no end.. but somehow.. today, he wanted nothing but to continue holding the girl in his arms and that the higher powers above them would somehow realise their own faults with justice. He hoped and prayed to whatever was out there that the other prisoners would be able to make it out of the place unharmed, especially Y/N. 

Suddenly, she shifted back slightly, beginning to draw her arms back. “P-please don’t go.” He managed out, holding onto her how a baby would to its mother. “Please.. I.. I’m s-so scared.” He stuttered uncharacteristically, the fear of losing her touch on him driving him jittery with fear again. She moved closer to him again, nodding. “I-I won’t..” 

He sighed as he burrowed his head into the area between her neck and her shoulder this time, slight tears beginning to drip out of his eyes. “I don’t want to die.. I really don’t. It must.. must sound so greedy of me.. but I really don’t want to.. “ He felt his tears drip onto her skin and onto her clothing. She should have had some adverse reaction but she didn’t show it. 

She brought her hand into his hair, stroking through it very softly. He sniffled yet again, his tongue beginning to feel heavy in his mouth. “It’s not greedy.. It really isn’t. No one here wants you to die, Draco. No one here wants you hurt at all.” She leaned over and pressed the lightest peck to the top of his pale blonde head. It was so soft Draco thought he’d imagined it. “You deserve better, Draco. You’ve.. saved so many people from here. Really. They’d all be beyond thankful to you.. after all this boils over.” _If it does._ He couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit skeptical.. why was she trying to be so goddamn nice? It made no sense.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He muttered out, under his breath. He forced his tears to slow down and held her closer, trying his best to remember what she felt like. If there would be some way to emulate it when he was past this realm of existence. She didn’t say another word, but continued to hold him as softly as she could. Y/N’s own soft breaths slowly lulled Draco to sleep, his usually horror-stricken dreams full of anticipation as to what truly awaited him when he woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

Y/N had never been popular at Hogwarts. Well.. she wasn’t exactly unpopular either, she supposed most of the people in her year knew what her name was, but didn’t care enough about her for her to be lunch-table gossip.. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person to constantly draw attention to herself like some of the others in her year liked to do. It was usually one of three ways, either by just being plain rude to people they didn’t like much (which that Malfoy boy seemed to _really_ enjoy), being extremely attractive or generally quite likeable (something she liked to think of Roger Davies) or just doing heroic things no one in their year should have been able to do at all (_classic_ Potter). 

She had a close knit circle of friends but didn’t stray much out of it. She kept up with all the latest gossip, tried to answer questions in class and tried to be pleasant with everyone (unless they were being the opposite). What she’d never been too fond of doing was stepping out of line.

Breaking rules wasn’t something she enjoyed at all. Things she assumed must have made rebellious students feel some kind of high would just put her on edge and made her fear for her life. Being out of her common room after curfew was already past the limits for her, so when she heard whispers about Potter’s alternative DADA classes in her fifth year, she’d stayed out of all of that, knowing it would inevitably lead to trouble. I mean, come on it was Potter and his rag-tag friends. That’s what they _did_. That wasn’t something she wanted to get her nose into, especially since Umbridge had been in charge. And when ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ was caught later in the year, she knew she’d been right. Even if she very well knew how bad of a teacher Umbridge was and how members of the group had ended up fighting against a bunch of Death Eaters at the end of the year (which of course, was also seriously life threatening), she knew she didn’t want to risk her picture perfect record over anything. 

That was.. until their seventh year. The year with the Carrows and Snape as headmaster and the rise of You Know Who growing more and more imminent. That was when she finally began to realise why Potter and his mates always acted as heroic as they did. That was when that stupid, overwhelming sense of guilt began to make its way into her very being.

The Carrows practically reigning over the school drove the mood of the castle effectively down the drain. There was a constant sense of dread, it seemed. Even the pleasant evenings she’d spent with housemates in her common room suddenly began to feel distressing. Obeying the rules was now of paramount importance, with any such disobedience meaning actual physical torture. 

Her DADA class especially had become treacherous. It seemed rather ironic to call it the _Defence_ against the Dark Arts. They were forced to turn into what they were meant to defend against. It wasn’t a class she’d always found easy or anything like that, but, dear Merlin, she really did not anticipate practicing the Cruciatus curse on student, at all. She absolutely mortified the first time.. She felt like retching the moment she’d spotted the innocents (just because the Carrows thought they were guilty of some rulebreaking _did not mean_ they deserved an Unforgivable!) standing by the wall, most of them trembling and gripping it to hold themselves up. 

She’d wanted to step out of the class that instant, but she realised an even worse fate would await her if she decided against it. Carrow hadn’t wasted even a second when Neville Longbottom declined the offer and quickly used his wand to cut into his cheek. She felt so immensely jealous as she saw they’d permitted stupid, awful, Malfoy out of the activity, him having muttered something about having enough experience with it to judge the others somehow accepted as a valid excuse by the monster that was Amycus Carrow. (Although she supposed his being a Death Eater also helped with that.)

Her wand had trembled as Carrow walked over to her and glared at her, then begun to yell at her to begin her casting the spell.

Ugh. His spit was sprinkled over her cheek. His teeth bared, yellow and grimy. She wiped it away with her wand and quickly turned her gaze away.

She had looked at the nervous ginger Hufflepuff girl in front of her with as much of an apologetic expression as she could muster, blurting out the incantation. She’d failed, of course, she knew such dark magic required true intent, something she really, really didn’t have in this situation. At all. 

She had looked over at Malfoy with a look of immense hatred, almost wishing she could curse him instead. It had been him who’d brought this all upon them. If all the rumors were true, it was him who’d managed to get all the Death Eaters into the castle in the first place. It was him who’d been given the responsibility of killing Dumbledore, which of course, he hadn’t managed to do, (dear Merlin, that scoundrel can't do a single thing right!) but it was as good as if he had, right? But what she was surprised to see was his lanky figure trailing around behind the group, hands jittering as he nervously tugged at his lower lip with his teeth. He brought his hands into his now limp, blonde hair as he heard the first few cries of despair. His eyes then darted over and looked back at the students and Y/N quickly looked to the front again, confused by what she’d seen.

She went back to her dormitory and cried her eyes out, the screams of the students ripping through her the whole time. The sound was like a bell, it rang and rang, a death toll, a constant reminder of what a coward she was, a bell to swing her away from sleep's shy arms. She skipped dinner and even whatever little she’d even managed to eat earlier in the day was forced out of her system, but even that burning feeling in her throat couldn’t match the agony that embodied the guilt that had seemed to find a place to live inside of her.

_This is all because of you! You didn’t even try to do anything! You’re such a coward! If you’d even tried the slightest bit to help everyone who’d been working against them, maybe all of those children wouldn’t have had to suffer like they had to today. You’re a terrible person! So extremely selfish! _

She’d walked to the girls’ restroom by her dormitory and just stared into the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks were unnaturally splotchy with color. _This is your punishment, you know? Feeling like this?_ _It’ll never go away. Ever._ She didn’t even know where this train of thought had emerged from, but she couldn’t help but feel that she deserved all of it. 

In an effort to drive away that sense of worthlessness, Y/N decided to take some kind of action. The first thing she decided to do was apologise as much as she possibly could to the Hufflepuff girl. The next morning, before breakfast, she’d waited outside the Great Hall to see if the girl was arriving, but to her astonishment, the girl was nowhere to be seen. 

Could she have been staying in her dormitory for the day? Perhaps to somehow drown out all the trauma she’d experienced the previous day.. Or maybe she couldn’t get a wink of sleep all night like Y/N and was struggling to sleep now! She’d never be able to get to her then! That was if.. she even permitted her to. She supposed she would understand if that was the case as well, she definitely wouldn’t even want to associate with someone who’d been attempting to use an Unforgivable on her.. But what was suspicious was that most of the students who’d been part of those experimented on in that very sad class weren’t among the students gathered up for breakfast. They were all nowhere to be seen.

She couldn’t find the courage to ask her housemates if they had any idea where they could be. They all seemed equally taken aback by the events and an unnatural hush had spread around the area. She decided to skip breakfast, with her stomach still performing somersaults in her abdomen, and walk around the castle in hopes of figuring out where they’d all vanished to. She didn’t remember any students having stayed back in her own common room..

The first place (and thankfully, the last place she had to look in) she decided to go to proved to be exactly where everyone had ended up, the Hospital Wing. Most of the students there were lying on their beds, staring up at the ceiling vacantly and flinching as they heard her footsteps, while the rest were fast asleep in their beds, still in their uniforms. The students who were awake looked over at her, some even growing startled. She attempted to soothe them with a slight smile and it seemed to work, all of them returning to their same vacant looks.

Y/N shuffled over to the Hufflepuff from earlier, fiddling with the sides of her robes. The girl was fast asleep, her red curls strewn messily over her pillow. She seemed so peaceful like this.. It was as if yesterday had never happened.

“She’s taken a potion for dreamless sleep, are you a friend of hers?” She almost jumped up at the sudden words sprung at her and looked behind her. Madam Pomfrey had stepped out of her office and was glancing at Y/N curiously. 

“Um.. sort of..” Y/N set her hands on her sides.

“Alright.. you’re free to stay here until it’s time for your next class. The students don’t seem to mind having you around much.” Madam Pomfrey adjusted her own robes and walked over to the other students, muttering something under her breath about punishments being out of hand..

Before she knew it, Y/N was stepping over to the woman to speak with her. At first, she wanted to ask her if she could allow her to use some of that potion herself, if perhaps she could be granted access to it for the rest of the year, but she found herself stumbling with her words. “M-madam.. I was wondering…” 

“Yes?” The older woman turned around, her headdress swishing slightly. 

“Well.. um..” _You can’t possibly expect her to give any to someone who’s performed an Unforgivable on a younger student! _

“Come on now, we don’t have all day.”

“I was wondering if I could help you. As in.. with the other students. I don’t want anything in return.. I just want to help them.” The words just came rushing out of her mouth and she could do nothing to stop them, and before she knew it, Pomfrey’d accepted her offer and basically made her consent to volunteering all her spare time in the Hospital Wing.

Y/N grew to love it, though. Helping ailing students certainly eased the burden she’d constantly felt on her shoulders. While she did absolutely detest seeing young ones in pain when they should have been playing around on the grounds without a care in the world, it was rewarding to her to be able to ease their struggles and soothe them. 

As the months progressed, she found herself growing more and more curious into the world of Healing. She began picking up books in the library on the subject and going through them. Her newfound passion seemed to ease some of the guilt she’d been feeling, and so she delved even further. 

In November, she discovered a book very much related to the field which most interested her which was seemingly untouched, _Remedies For Wizarding War Maladies_. It was an interesting read, to say the least. Some of the illustrations and images were hard to get through, but the instructions and articles along with them were extremely informative. It was also this book that introduced her to a more unfamiliar concept : _shell shock._

While some of the new physical torture at Hogwarts (the Carrows were actually stooping down to hurt some students with their own bare hands) had certainly acquainted Y/N with all sorts of injuries, mental illness was something Madam Pomfrey even didn’t seem to really know much about. Shell shock was apparently first discovered by the Muggles during their own first World War. Soldiers would return traumatized and in some cases, senile, after being exposed to the terrifying reality of war. The Muggles had gone on to call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in recent times and had learnt that it wasn’t just war the illness could spring from, it was any sort of trauma.

_Is this what I have? Is this what we all have? Is there even any real way to cure it? Or will we all just have to learn to live with that constant sense of hurt?_ Her heart seemed to drop lower down her chest as the thought of all the younger students experiencing such things popped into her head. _All those children.. they aren’t even guilty of anything. Can being a muggle-born or a sympathizer be considered a crime? These people are absolutely inhuman. _

Suddenly, she felt the urge to just wrap up all the first years in the castle and just wrap them up in a thick blanket. Perhaps just pretend to be their mother hen and keep them safe from any sort of harm. And so, these thoughts were what triggered her to break the rules for the first time in her life.   
  
She started to hide students the Carrows had called for detention or even further punishment. At first, she’d only been able to sneak girls away into her own dormitory or the restrooms. She’d keep them there until nightfall, then find a way to help them back to their own beds or conjure up mattresses for them to just sleep in hers. It was always very risky and so the only ones who even knew about it were the others who lived in the same room as her. They’d all sworn to keep it secret, but even then she sometimes just worked on these plans alone. 

When she returned after her winter break, she began to feel extremely guilty for not protecting the boys as well. They were just as vulnerable and didn’t deserve anything they got from the Carrows either. Y/N began walking around the corridors at night, searching for a place to keep them.   
  
She had a lot of options to pick from, but all of them seemed easy to infiltrate. It was terribly frustrating. She’d realised a few members of ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ had more or less disappeared from the castle. Neville Longbottom.. Seamus Finnigan.. and countless others whose names she couldn’t recall. 

She was walking along the seventh floor corridor one night, clad in a dressing gown and her pyjamas, when she saw someone she hadn’t seen in a long while coming out of a set of double doors she didn’t recognise : Longbottom. Very quickly, she made her way to him and questioned him, assuring him she wouldn’t rat him out.   


_The Room Of Requirement.. Of course that’s a thing. Everything makes sense now. _

She begged him to let her allow other students who needed to hide from the Carrows into the room with him and was this close to actually kneeling in front of him when he finally agreed. Within weeks, it became routine for her to stop by the room with a couple of students before heading down to the Hospital Wing.

It soon became clear to the Carrows that there was an overwhelming amount of students on their ‘hit list’ that had gone missing over time. They’d begun to drop in uninvited into various common rooms and dormitories, not even caring for the students’ privacy anymore. It was during one of these unplanned drop ins that Y/N was finally caught red-handed. 

She was walking through the corridors with a bunch of first year Gryffindors on a Hogsmeade weekend when the castle was supposed to be more or less empty. She’d been careless, really. She was sporting casual, colourful Muggle clothes, something the Carrows had seemed to absolutely despise, although they didn’t act much on it. In hindsight, it was also some sort of rebellion against them.   
  
Then, all of a sudden, Alecto had appeared out of nowhere and had nonverbally bound Y/N with ropes, making her fall to the ground while the first years began to panic and ran away helter skelter. Y/N began to squirm herself, her heart beginning to race in her chest as she stared into space. She began to hyperventilate and tears soon welled up in her eyes, and all Carrow did was laugh maniacally as she always did. 

While Y/N might never even have come up among the Death Eaters before, this had effectively pulled her name onto the list of their most hated students. If she’d been in Dumbledore’s Army, Merlin knew she’d have been killed, but fortunately, or unfortunately rather, Alecto had Crucio-ed her personally till she could barely even feel her extremities anymore. The sudden experience had made her realise why many considered suffering the Cruciatus Curse even worse than death. 

It really was worse than anything she’d ever experienced before. Heartbreak, cramps, broken bones, they were all nothing compared to that almost sizzling sensation that rang out throughout her body when the spell was inflicted on her. It was as if a billion, burning needles had poked through her skin and were splitting her apart, inch by inch. She wondered if that was how it felt when she’d been forced to cast it on those students. She then wished Alecto had just killed her and got it over with. The guilt which had made its way into her mind only continued to increase.

After they’d questioned her and she’d continually refused to offer in any sort of information on where Dumbledore’s Army was hiding, Y/N was practically a husk of the person she was before. She’d blacked out countless times after being tortured and there seemed to constantly be a metallic, bloody taste in the back of her throat. When they’d decided they’d had enough with her, they’d sent her off to Madam Pomfrey and that’s where she had woken up, tucked away in one of the beds she was used to tending to students in, with Madam Pomfrey standing beside it, holding a handkerchief to her face and shaking slightly.

“Oh, Miss Y/L/N, you’re awake.” She attempted to hide it behind her and sniffled slightly, but it was no use. Y/N opened her mouth to speak but could barely manage out a croak, so instead, she just gave her a weak smile and nodded, her neck still hurting the slightest bit as she did. 

The days passed quickly after that. Sudden noises would still make her wince a bit and Dreamless Sleep Potion was the only way her nights weren’t interrupted by memories of that horrible, horrible occurrence. The Carrows had decided that she was to be expelled from the school after that, but instead of sending her back to her family, they (and apparently Snape agreed with them) felt she should be sent to Malfoy Manor. She barely had the energy to stand up for more than a few minutes and thus could barely even defend herself in front of them. She was forced to consent to this decision and went along with it, apparating there by herself after Madam Pomfrey deemed her healthy enough to, just to have her wand seized off her by one of the many Death Eaters there.

Life there was quite terrifying, even more than it was at the castle. The only thing that made it the slightest bit better was that she wasn’t forced to torture anyone, or have to witness it with her own eyes. She hated the cellar in the basement with every bit of her soul, but it was still some sort of refuge from what lay above.   
  
There were other students there too, but they were all younger than she was. There were families there too, couples who weren’t much older than she was, and people who looked to be even older than her own grandparents. It seemed to her that she was the most invulnerable among them. Even though she still felt like a small child who desired to cry forever in her heart, she pushed these thoughts away and tried to brace herself to stay strong for everyone else.

She found herself consoling crying prisoners, teaching them how to save the meagre gruel they got for later and hoping, wishing that everyone stuck in the cellar with her wasn’t destined for a premature death. While it wasn’t often that one of the prisoners was pulled out of the cellar to be tortured, she found herself growing anxious at the thought of something like that happening at all. Everyone there with her were in similar states as herself, faces pale or unnaturally pink, figures much thinner than they were originally and still in the dishevelled clothing they had on before. 

One day, instead of the usual house elf coming down with their gruel, she realised that it was.. Draco Malfoy. She’d lost track of the days since she’d come here, but realised that it must be Easter break. He was bizarrely gentle and no one seemed repulsed at the sight of him, and so she grew curious. 

The prisoners who’d been there a few months longer than she had told her stories of what he’d done in winter break, how he’d set a whole family free and helped so many others who were suffering out of the area and into another place. They seemed to trust him, and somehow, she felt she was growing towards it too.

_I should hate him! _She thought. _He was always cruel! Always so unkind and ungrateful to anyone who wasn’t ready to suck up to him. His friends also seemed afraid of him. He’s the reason Dumbledore was murdered! He’s the reason the castle was taken over by the Death Eaters. I should hate him and never forgive him ever._

But for some reason, she realised something. He was still just a boy. He was still just seventeen (or perhaps eighteen, but that didn’t make a difference). She’d heard about everything with his father.. was that why he was the way he was? Why was he suddenly so kind with all of them? Was it all just an elaborate ruse to win their trust and then betray all of them in the end? Was he even leading all of these people out of the Manor? Or was he leading the poor idiots to their deaths? 

Whatever it was, she knew she’d never be able to get an answer if she kept on placing so much disbelief in the boy. It wasn’t soon before he’d begun helping the others out as well. He’d seemed to have noticed her, but of course, smiling politely or engaging in small talk were really out of the question. He’d seemed to have wanted to help her out as well, but she declined any such offers, pointing him towards others who were clearly suffering more than she was. 

Merlin knew she craved some Dreamless Sleep potion, then perhaps she wouldn’t have those dreams anymore. She had forced herself not to think about it much but it still ate away at her. What must have happened to her family? Had the Carrows sent out something to capture them too? The dreams she had of them were all alarmingly short. In some of them they’d be screaming for her to help them, in some they’d smile and wave, but then just disappear. Regardless, if there was anything she wanted more than for all of the other prisoners to escape, it was to see her loved ones again. There was no saying what the Death Eaters might have done to them.

It had been a week or so since Draco had first begun helping people out of the Manor in front of her. Some kind of memory or dream had sparked the third year Gryffindor to cry, Emile, if she remembered correctly. She was attempting to help him feel better, rubbing his back as he lay down on the floor, his chest shuddering as he continued to sob. 

She was almost stunned when Malfoy arrived and politely waved her off. She just sat back and watched the display in front of her. Who would have thought Draco Malfoy, the boy who seemed to be popular for getting on everyone’s nerves (and maybe, just maybe for not looking.. unattractive), would be up to something like this in the height of the Second Wizarding War, that too with his family on the Dark side of all things?

She’d leaned onto a wall as her eyes followed Malfoy leading Emile out of the cellar. And then, hoping he’d lead him to a safe place, she took a deep breath and relaxed. She sat in her place quietly, smiling over at any child who waved over at her when suddenly, she heard shouting from upstairs. 

Everyone in the cellar fell silent and looked at each other, confused yet curious as to what the commotion about. Y/N felt a sudden lurch of anxiety inside of her. Had they been caught? Had they brought new prisoners? Were they going to take someone else upstairs? She looked around at the others in the room, shifting to hug her knees. 

Before she could understand what was going on, she heard someone yelling as they walked down the steps outside. Everyone looked over at the door curiously and were astonished at who came in. It was Draco Malfoy. The heir of the very wealthy family whose manor they were all forced to reside in was bundled up on the floor, clearly injured.

She was this close to getting up to check on him when he sat up himself, muttered something and then stared back at the rest of them. He managed out a few more words and then shrunk back, covering his face as she assumed he began to cry, slight sniffles audible.

When she thought others had stopped paying attention, she went over to talk to him. She felt so very pitiful for him as he spoke, and suddenly, she offered him a hug and he actually accepted it. He held her very tightly and shivered, almost exactly like a scared child would. She could feel him continue to cry and nodded gently as he confessed to her his fears. 

She was almost certain that he’d never said any of this to anyone before. He truly was just a child in front of her in that moment, and she held onto him as such. She found herself pressing a gentle peck to his head, she almost froze, thinking it was too much but Draco only seemed to relax further, and so she just held him the way he had arranged the two of them, her hand still ruffling his hair gently. 

He soon fell asleep in her arms and with her head resting atop his, she felt like she was really cradling a sleeping child. Well, a child that was much larger and heavier than she was, but much more vulnerable in that moment. As he fell silent and leaned sideways onto the wall, she began to think to herself, hands still gently stroking the fabric of his dark shirt. 

Would he be able to make it out of this alive? With him laying against her the way he was and how hopeless he’d acted.. It was perfectly clear what his stance on the issue was. He wasn’t wrong.. _He Who Must Not Be Named _wasn’t known for being merciful. So, really, the question was, when and how? But Y/N wasn’t one to consider someone who’d presented themselves so vulnerably to her as good as dead. If only she had her wand.. 

She could have cast a nice Disillusionment Charm on him. Or, perhaps even tried Human Transfiguration and changed his features into those of a stranger. Or, she wished that she could just use some Muggle tactics like a tarp to hide him if anyone came looking. But obviously, there was nothing she could do but hope for the best. 

Soon enough, he was slumped against the wall, his hands loosely gripping at the hem of her sweater and his mouth open as he took slow, deep breaths. She slowly shifted back and laid his head against the wall. His face was unusually soft, that scowl that normally decorated it was nowhere to be seen. It made Y/N more curious as to whom he really was. Perhaps his usual selfish, arrogant persona was just pretense. Just a mask for how innocent he was inside. 

She reached over to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, fingers brushing by the side of his face. Draco stirred slightly and flinched at her touch, which made her draw her hand back. Soon, she detached herself from him and sat beside him, nibbling nervously at her lower lip. 

She got up and tried to get her mind off of it again. Some children were gathered together, talking about something and giggling to themselves. She really did look up to their ability to make the best out of every situation. If only she could have been ten again. Then perhaps people would have enough sympathy not to hurt her, and then she wouldn’t have been in Hogwarts at all, so all those memories wouldn’t have burned into her mind. But now, really, all that she could do was hope for the best.

She felt her stomach growling and sat down on the floor, hugging her knees again in an attempt to somehow hide it and cause that feeling to shrink away. She felt warmer curled up like that as well, even a bit childlike. She smiled to herself for a second and shut her eyes, but sat up straight again as those bloody visions returned. 

She took deep breaths to soothe herself, trying her best not to attract the attention of anyone near her. She bit down on her lip harshly and looked over at how peaceful Draco looked asleep, his nostrils flaring slightly. He even resembled a sleeping child. She felt her lips curling upwards and she was reminded of her own loved ones. Oh, how she missed them.. This would be her first Easter without them. This drove her to a train of thoughts she really wasn’t fond of. 

_Is this the first of many? Where even are they? Are they even alive? Are they happy? Do they know where I am? Do they know I’m alive? _

She felt goosebumps beginning to rise on the back of her neck as she grew more and more anxious.

_Will I even be alive to see them ever again? Are they hurt all because of me? Will I make it out of here alive? Or will I even be able to speak to them? How much longer does Draco have? Will I be able to protect him? _

_I won’t! Of course I won’t! I’m so goddamn useless. All I’ve done is let everyone down. Those Gryffindors.. I don’t even know if they’re alright today. I just left them astray. How could I have been so careless? They were all just children. Defenseless against the Carrows. Of course they must be hurt. All because of me! You probably lead the Carrows straight to the Army’s hideout. They’re probably all getting tortured because of you now._

Images of Neville and his friends being whipped and Crucio-ed suddenly sprung up in her mind and she began to shudder visibly. Similar images of her own family popped up in her head and she retched, suddenly shifting off to the corner and kneeling, that similar burning in her throat as she got rid of whatever gruel she’d scarfed down earlier in the day.

Would it ever stop hurting? Would such innocent sights always continue to spark such painful reactions? There was no way for her to know. None at all. She gripped her stomach and shifted away from the wall, disgusted by the sight of her own sick. Others noticed her and came to comfort her, but alas! There was someone coming down the stairs again. Someone wearing heels.

She heard that same wicked laughter everyone in the cellar had learned to fear. She knew what was happening. It was time for Draco to.. NO! She wasn’t going to let that happen!

She walked over to him and slumped down next to him, setting her arms around his neck again. He woke up quickly and shook in her grasp, but relaxed again. “..Y/N?” He muttered as he hugged her again, setting his head on top of hers again. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

She hadn’t even realised when the tears had made their way out of her eyes and had begun to drip onto his shirt. “I’m fine.. Just.. just shh..” She drew her head back and looked at him again, studying his face carefully. He looked alarmed, not afraid as he should have been, but suddenly his expression grew more and more nervous. He’d heard the footsteps.

“Is that..?” He didn’t complete his statement and drew her closer to him, his hands rising up to grip her shoulders. She could feel his arms shielding her in that position, trying to hide her almost. She couldn’t help but shift onto his lap, still sniffling as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Maybe if they sat that way Bellatrix wouldn’t see where Draco was and leave. And then maybe that would be it. She couldn’t let somebody else get hurt. Not again.

The cellar door slammed open but Y/N kept her eyes shut tight, holding him as close to her as she could. He began crying himself and was literally clinging to her for life. She looked up at his face and his eyes met hers, blinking slowly as a single tear dripped down his cheek. The heels clicked over nearer to them and she swore she heard her grunt. Draco suddenly gulped and whispered to her.   
“L-let go of me.”

“Are you- No, I can’t.”

“Please.. She-she won’t hesitate to hurt you..” 

“No,no.. It doesn’t matter. I have to-”

“Y/N, please. You don’t deserve to get hurt all because of me.”

Y/N gave in and slipped off of him, her side towards the wall as she continued to face him. Bellatrix saw him and cackled again, walking over to grab him by the ear. She glanced over at Y/N and her eyes narrowed. “You’re turning into a blood traitor right before our very eyes, aren’t you, Draco?” He didn’t say a word but let out a groan of pain, his pale face turning red.

She wanted so badly to stop what was going on, to just grab onto Draco’s hand and pull him back. If she’d had the courage to do so, she would have stopped Bellatrix with her bare hands and would have nipped the problem in the bud right there. But she sat there, just frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

As Bellatrix pulled him out of the cellar and shut the door behind her, Y/N felt as if everything was moving in slow motion around her. She could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest and she slid onto the floor, everything around her growing hazy as her breaths quickened. 

She’d let another person down again! Just like all those other times. She really couldn’t do a single thing right. All she’d done thus far was lead to others getting hurt. 

She felt her throat tighten and she spluttered out, eyes darting around frantically. She gripped the cold edge of the wall and forced herself to sit up and count to ten. _I can’t give in to those feelings. Not like this. _

She felt someone’s hand on her shoulder and shuddered at first, but then relaxed as she realised who it was. “Luna..” The blonde just nodded and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll sit with you Y/N… that was very hard to watch from afar as well, you know.” She didn’t respond to this and just stared down at her lap, her breaths slowing back down to normal. 

It wasn’t long before another bunch of footsteps rang out outside the door and two familiar faces popped in. She recognised them almost instantly. It was almost to be expected.. their _unexpected_ heroics. Weasley and.. what looked like Potter were standing by the door, curiously staring at all the prisoners. Luna sprung up almost immediately and went over to them, but she wasn’t as cheery as she always used to be, and the two looked at her as if she was some queer exhibit at a museum. 

Weasley walked over to the door and stared out the small window at the top as a girl’s bloodcurdling scream rung out from above. _Who is that…? It can’t be.. Granger?! _Y/N felt panicked again but forced herself to stay calm, something very, very odd was about to happen and she couldn’t risk losing her marbles in a situation like this.

Weasley shouted out something to the two of them and Potter nodded before reaching into his pocket for what looked like a piece of glass. He turned it over in his palm before his eyes widened behind his glasses, and he muttered something to it. _Seems like the war is driving him mad as well.._

Y/N sat there for a bit, then shifted over to the other prisoners, trying her best to answer any doubts they had about what was going on. This was quite difficult with her own lack of knowledge, but she managed to satiate them by telling them that they were a part of the right side of things. 

A loud ‘pop’ sound grabbed everyone’s attention, and an oddly dressed house elf had appeared in the middle of the room. “Dobby!” Potter called out and hobbled over to speak to him. Soon, Potter looked over at the crowd and began to speak.

“Everyone…Dobby will get you out of here and to a safe house. Please keep calm and quiet, and we’ll get you all out soon enough.” Everyone grew excited at once, especially the children, at even the prospect of escaping.

Y/N should have been jumping out of her skin with glee, hugging one of the other students, but something continued to eat away at her insides.

“Th-thank you so much… for all of this. Really. Some people here have been trapped for months.” She said to them once the others seemed to have scampered off to get their things. “I’ve realised only recently how terrifying all of this is.. We’ll never be able to pay you back for this. Life here has been hell.”

Potter muttered something dismissively but Y/N barely even registered any sounds coming from his mouth, her brain still caught up in a weird frenzy. “Please-please.. Try and save Draco.” She swallowed and surveyed their faces as she said this, remembering their school yard rivalry with him. Both of their faces grew alarmed at first, with Weasley’s expression turning into a bit of a snarl while Potter just stared at her like she was crazy.

“I know you never got along with him.. And that he was mean and everything. Believe me, I remember all of that. But.. here.. There were apparently way more people here before winter break. Draco helped all of them escape. Seriously.” She stared down at her feet, now afraid to meet their gazes. “Draco was helping a third year escape even today and he got caught during by some of the Death Eaters.. I’m sure they’ll kill him or torture him to death if he’s left here.”

She looked up at them again and the both of them were clearly uncomfortable. Weasley glanced over to the side and flinching as the same girl’s screams rang out again. He walked over to the door while Potter looked back at her timidly. “Y/L/N.. we’ll.. try our best. You should go along with that group..” He pointed over at a bunch of students huddled together, whispering something. 

She nodded and smiled weakly at him. “Thank you. For everything.” She walked over to the group and joined them, offering them all a smile and whispering words of encouragement. She knew she could hide her anxiety for now and looked over at the house-elf as it appeared. It waddled over to them and they quickly bunched up around it. Its ball-like eyes looked around at them and its mouth curled into a smile. “Hang on tight.”

It snapped its fingers and Y/N felt that same strange tugging sensation under her navel, feeling herself getting pulled forward and almost falling into space when suddenly, her body met solid ground. She sat up straight and looked around herself. They’d all been transported to a beach, a nice expansive beach. There was a cottage a short walk away where she could see a few people waving over at them and some prisoners were already walking towards it. She decided not to get up as yet, running her fingers through the soft sand and thinking to herself.

_You will see him again. He hasn’t died because of you. Get a grip on yourself._


	3. Chapter 3

Y/N’s life as a healer was nothing short of tedious on paper. But she still loved it.

After having received specialised training for treating those impacted by war, trauma and violence post her basic healing certification, her schedule remained full, full, full, thanks to the Second Wizarding War, of course. Everyone and their mother was impacted and gravely so. Thanks to the Ministry’s work towards spreading awareness about the mental implications of war and trauma, everyone had been encouraged to seek support. 

Her ward at St. Mungo’s remained constantly occupied, with the people who were permanently disabled as a result of the violence of the war taking up beds and pretty much being forced to spend the rest of their lives there. It was heartbreaking, but she had to keep her head up high and help them move on. She’d been lucky enough to be able to cool down the impacts the war had had on her in time enough to complete her schooling and be able to work towards achieving the goal she had desired ever since her seventh year at Hogwarts.

Her clinic times were full as well, with her having to both counsel and treat afflicted patients. There were some familiar faces here and there, old friends and teachers and classmates from Hogwarts. And also, the others who’d been in the cellar along with her. Sure, a hospital wasn’t an ideal destination for her to meet others, but it was the only place she seemed to have time for. The little time she got off, she’d stay home, reading up and attempting to expand her knowledge of post traumatic stress disorder based on Muggle research. (Someone had to put in the effort for the rest of the Wizarding World, right?) Romance wasn’t something she put effort into anymore. Sure, she’d had a few affairs, but.. she wasn’t actively looking for something, not when she was so busy. 

But sometimes, the best things come when you least expect them to. 

Y/N was sitting at her desk, writing off yet another prescription of Potion for Dreamless Sleep (something that was so greatly helpful to those suffering with mental illness, you’d never have thought!) for a previous patient. She soon finished writing notes about the frequence of the dosage they were permitted and charmed the parchment to go to the patient’s hand. 

She checked her list and almost froze as she read the name of her next patient. 

_ Malfoy, Draco. _

_ Age : 27. (D.O.B. : 5th June, 1980.) _

_ Blood Status : Pureblood. _

_ Nationality : British. _

_ Ailments : _

  * __Diagnosed with PTSD at 18. Now mostly recovered. __
  * _Suffered severe physical damage and faced Cruciatus curse at a young age, has some sensitivity to loud noises, flashing lights, etc._
  * _Suffered dark magic curse at 16, left with minor scarring on abdomen. No other permanent effects._
  * _Mild hereditary concerns : skin hypersensitivity, family history of osteoporosis._

_ Prescriptions : _

  * __Potion for Dreamless Sleep. (Taking regularly for 10 years.)__

There was a name she hadn’t seen in years. She’d thought about him, sure. But they hadn’t stayed in contact at all. She usually learned the most about him through the Daily Prophet, where she’d recently learnt he’d been seen talking to a woman at a party. Huh. There really wasn’t much to report about anymore, it seemed. Maybe that was something to be grateful about?

Most of what was on his sheet was expected, when she’d last seen him, at Hogwarts, during their 8th year, which most of the others in their year had chosen to forego, she remembered he was still taking the potion. The only oddity was his continued prescription.. most patients would basically be ‘weaned’ off of it by their fourth or fifth year of treatment.. why had Draco been taking it for twice that long?

  
Either way, she kept staring at her door a bit nervously, awaiting his entry.  
  
There was a soft knock at the door and she bit down on her lip. “Come in.” And then.. He.. walked in. 

She offered him a smile and ushered him over to the chair in front of her desk.

“Hello, Draco.” 

He was wearing dark robes, his height still prominent as he stepped into the room. His hair seemed to be a bit longer than she remembered it, a few pale strands covering his forehead but still styled meticulously. He seemed obviously more mature, and a bit less skinny than the boy she remembered. There were slight wrinkles on his face, under his eyes, which could again be traced back to the stresses of war, most likely. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N.” He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “I.. I recognised your name but I didn’t know whether it was really you. I should’ve brou-”  
  
For some reason, she forced out a slight giggle. “That’s no-no problem at all, really. I was a bit surprised when I saw your name too.”

“I usually have my check ups with uh.. Healer Bole? I thought it was him again, but the name on the door confused me.”  
“He’s taken some time off these past few days. That’s why they must have assigned you to me instead.”  
“I suppose…”

Y/N looked straight into his eyes as an awkward silence rose into the room. His grey pupils stared right back at hers, blinking very slowly. What were you supposed to talk about with someone you’d been close to ten years prior? 

Oh, right, she was supposed to be healing him. Thank god there was no need for any actual small talk between them. 

“So, what brings you here today? If you need counselling or anything, I probably shouldn’t do it since we know each other personally an-”  
“Oh, oh, no. I just needed to refill my prescription.”  
“For Potion of Dreamless Sleep?”  
“Yes.”  
“Right.. Before I do that, could I ask you about it..?”  
“Um, sure?” 

“Well.. I wanted to know.. how come you’ve been taking it for so long? I don’t know if you know, but patients are only recommended to take it regularly for a maximum of five years.”

“I.. I need it. I can’t sleep without it. The nightmares are still awful.”  
“But you’ve been.. taking it regularly ever since th-”

“I have.”  
“So.. how do you know the nightmares are just as bad?”  
“Well.. um.. I’ve tried sleeping without it, it didn’t work out well for me.”  
“For a night?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, I’d like for you to try it again, for a few nights. We can send in a nurse for you, if you want.”

  
He looked at her with a slightly pained, irritated expression.

“Must I..? Bole would give me the prescriptions just fine.”  
  
She hesitated for a second, then thought through what he’d just said.  
  
“Bole was.. making a mistake, I think. Did he know you’d been taking it for that long?”  
“I’ve been seeing him all along.”  
“You’re kidding!”  
“I’m not..”

Wow, had she just discovered her colleague had been engaging in medical malpractice? Taking the easy way out of a complicated situation? Surely, there had to be more to this, right?

“Did he never ask you to try..?”  
“He did, but after I told him it didn’t go well the first time he seemed fine with just continuing to prescribe it to me.”  
“I see..”  
  
Hmm. Bole had definitely not done the right thing. It sounded terribly lazy. He was risking Draco developing an addiction just so that he wouldn’t have to put in actual effort to heal him. When dealing with a case as such, patients were often kept in the ward for observation, but obviously Bole hadn’t even brought up the possibility of the same to Draco. A complaint was going to have to be filed, it seemed.

“I hate to inform you of this, but I feel Bole might have done the wrong thing in this case.”

“Oh..?”  
“Yes, I will again insist you try to forego potion for a few nights. There are major potential implications of using it for as long as you have, and we can avoid any actual damage if we can have you give it up soon.”

“But.. Y/N.. I..”  
“Come on.. “ She bit at the inside of her cheek. “Like I said before, we can have a nurse come in for you and observe. And also.. It’s Healer Y/L/N to you, Mr. Malfoy.”  
  
He smirked at this and set his hands on his lap, taking a deep breath. 

“You know what, Healer Y/L/N? I might be willing to try.. but.. I don’t want a nurse to come in. I want you to.”

Her eyes widened and she reached for the quill on her desk, fiddling with its fibres. When an ex challenged you as such, were you supposed to take it? The feelings he used to stir inside of her had long faded and she was sure the both of them had moved on as much as the other had, it was a mutual break up, in the end. Was this supposed to be related to that..? Was he.. Actually interested? Or was he just playing games? 

Did it even matter? Life was getting a little boring. Something a little out of the ordinary for her would be fun, for sure.

“You know what? Sure.”

***

It was seven o’clock on Friday evening when she finally finished up with all her work at St. Mungo’s and headed home, ready for the night that lay ahead of her. 

She slipped out of the lime green uniform robes she wore to work and went through her wardrobe, confused. What the hell was she supposed to wear? Definitely not something inappropriate, not something overly casual, and not something too fancy either. In the end, she was going over to his place to watch him sleep, and hopefully manage to sleep herself, _ not _ to sleep with him. (She was quite tired, admittedly.)

In the end, she decided to wear a pair of pyjamas (white with purple stripes!) just out of spite. Would it be a turn off? Huh, possibly. Would it be funny? For sure. Would it be embarrassing? ..maybe, but hopefully not.

And so she did exactly that and apparated to his home. One she’d only visited years and years ago. 

It was just as grand as it was then. Probably a bit more wellkept now. Obviously so, since it had been 10 years since the war had struck.. since she’d been trapped inside that very cellar. And for a second, she just stood there, processing her memories. She was not going to let the sight of this house cause her to relapse, absolutely not. It had been years. Many years since then. She’d gotten over it. She didn’t need to think about it. 

Slowly but steadily, she made her way through the gate and into the estate. The hedges were gorgeous, trimmed to perfection and even with the sun down, the lamps set every few steps along made everything look even more.. perfect. Draco really did live in the lap of luxury. He always had.

She walked to the door and used the snake-shaped door knocker (Christ!) a couple times, staring up at the tall hardwood door as it suddenly opened. 

And of course, it was him. Him. In a blue cotton button up shirt and silky pyjamas. Cute.

  
“Good evening, Healer Y/L/N. Do come in. Nice outfit.” He took a step back and held the door open.  
“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy.” She stepped in, looking around curiously. 

It was all different. Draco had switched up the layout considerably. Gone was the dark and gloomy aesthetic that had presided over the interior of the house before. Everything was white now. Off-white, perhaps, like the color you’d call marble. The palatial chandeliers still hung from the ceilings, but that was all that remained the same. Everything else was brighter. She was glad to see it was so.

“Having a look around, are we?”

“Well, what do you expect, Draco? It’s been.. so many years.. It looks beautiful, by the way.”  
“Thank you, interior design by yours truly.”  
“I thought as much.. your taste has improved a bit, I’d say.” She smiled up at him.

The change was definitely helpful towards her not feeling panicked at the sight of the place. It actually looked.. inviting, to some extent. 

“Glad to hear you think so, Healer.”  
“Right, so, were you going to get to bed?”  
“This early? I thought we were going to have dinner first.”  
“I.. had some dinner at work. Quite a bit, actually.”  
“That’s too bad.. I just had Golby set out the table for us. Nice food too.”

“You can have it, if you like. I’m just here for work, am I not?”  
“.. Y/N..” He rolled his eyes. “No formalities between us, please.”  
“It’s not a formality. It’s protocol.”

He sets his hand on her shoulder and she almost winces.  
  
“Please? For me?”  
“Ugh.. fine.”

***

Sitting beside him on the table brought back memories. Pleasant ones. Of all the times they had together. The first true ‘moment’ they had between them wasn’t one she liked looking back at all that much. It was unpleasant and could still trigger an anxiety attack. 

But everything after..

She could remember the joy that had filled her upon seeing Draco stumble into Shell Cottage that same day. He was wounded, badly, but he was alive. He could be healed. She’d helped Fleur as much as she could with all the healing after that point, and she took up a mattress right next to where Draco had been put to sleep, and she took care of him, personally. He was beyond grateful, as he’d told her a few days later.

And she was beyond grateful to Harry and Ron. They’d actually listened to her when it would have been so easy to just ignore her. She knew they’d hated him like anything at school, and it had truly elated her to see Draco again, actually alive. 

They’d spoken to Draco and he was actually willing to help them. He told them of the plans he knew the Death Eaters were working on. It wasn’t quite a lot to go off of, since apparently, You-Know-Who had begun to distrust the Malfoy family, but it was still helpful. Draco even told her he basically saved their lives by lying for them, and they’d basically returned the favour. She wasn’t sure about the specifics, really. All she knew was that they’d somehow balanced out what they owed each other. 

They’d spent a while at Shell Cottage before being moved over to a different safe house. Draco was the Death Eater’s biggest target at that point, and he had grown very, very scared. For some reason, it was decided that the two of them would go to the Tonks’ house. To Andromeda’s house. To Draco’s estranged aunt’s house. He felt even more afraid.

She’d been shunned out of their family! All because she’d eloped with a muggle born. He was afraid she wouldn’t take much of a liking to him, but.. it was completely different to what he’d anticipated. She welcomed with open arms, treated him like her own son. Everything was just fine. Or at least that’s what it seemed like.

The ‘Battle of Hogwarts’ came to fruition before them and the two of them stayed far from it, the lack of wands rendering them useless in such chaos.  
  
Obviously, after the conflict, they were off in search of their families. Draco’s was glad to have him back alive, as was hers. They’d apparently fled from the country the instant they realised she’d been kidnapped by the Death Eaters. 

But.. of course.. she was then forced to spend quite a lot of time at St. Mungo’s. PTSD. Thankfully, she was far from alone. Practically every other person even partly involved with the conflict was also undergoing some sort of treatment post war. And right after a particular therapy session, when Draco’d asked her to join him for a pint at the Leaky Cauldron, was when repressed feelings came out into the open and she kissed him. 

And that was that, really. 

They were inseparable for the next year. The ‘eighth years’ at Hogwarts, which consisted of several students looking to get the NEWT’s they’d missed out in the year prior, were banded together most of the time, and Draco and Y/N seemed to be joined at the hip. Well, until they weren’t anymore.

It was a mutual agreement. Neither of them were treating it very seriously and they had things to focus on. It ended on a positive note, with a little giggle between them and a hug. They were teenagers, after all.

But now, ten years later, she wasn’t sure why all those feelings were coming right back. Making her blush when he spoke to her. Goddammit. Why did Draco have to get cuter as he got older?

Soon enough, it was time for bed. They’d chatted for nearly an hour just at the dinner table and Y/N suggested he try sleeping earlier than usual, just for observation’s sake. And so he led her into his bedroom, shutting his door behind the two of them.

“Should I.. get you a mattress?”

“That would be nice.”  
“Actually.. wait... I..”  
  
She stared up at him curiously, smoothing back her hair. All of a sudden he grabbed ahold of both of her hands and pulled her forward, closer to him. 

“Draco, I-”

“No, I have a confession to make…” He took a deep breath. “I might have had.. intentions.. calling you over here. Doing all of this, really.”  
“You.. what?”  
“I asked them to schedule my appointment with you instead. I kind of.. missed you.”  
“..Oh?”  
“I totally get it if you don’t want anything.. romantic with me. I’m fine just being friends. I.. I don’t think you’re in a relationship, but of course, I could be wrong.. I just.. I.. we were so good together, you know?”  
“We were.”  
“We just.. got each other. You were so kind to me. Why did we even.. end us..?”

“It was a mutual thing, remember?”  
“I know but.. I like you, you know?” That made her cheeks flush more than she’d care to admit.

“You do?”  
“I do. I.. didn’t really need the potion when we’d.. sleep together. You’d just.. I don’t know how you did it.. But I’d feel calm with you. Around you. There’s no better candidate for a healer, really. I was thinking that you’d be very, very good.. and I was right, you were. You.. did the right thing, didn’t you?” 

This was so out of nowhere. She should be more shocked, shouldn’t she? But why was she feeling like she was on cloud nine?

“I like you too.” was all she could manage out.  
  
He looked at her for a second before giving her a wide, wide grin. 

“I can’t believe you pretended you didn’t know it was me! Was that just because you couldn’t be arsed to get me chocolates or something?”

“Uh.. well.. Maybe.” He laughed and she did too, playfully hitting the side of his arm. “I’ll get you some if you want them so badly. I have.. better gifts to offer you.” He winked.

“Draco!” She shook her head. 

“Fine. As you wish, Healer.”  
  
She just rolled her eyes at him and stared at him with the most sincere smile she could manage. He pulled her even closer towards him, bringing a hand up and setting it on her cheek. His eyes were suddenly on hers and she leaned up towards him, puckering her lips. 

And then their lips met. It was the most familiar feeling in the world and yet the most electrifying. Everything was soft and sweet and perfect. All their wounds were healed and they knew anything that still hurt would only get better. 

All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me your thoughts! First posted on my tumblr : @eltanin-malfoy.


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